


Still Frames in Your Hands

by fanfiction_fanfriction



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Photography, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfiction_fanfriction/pseuds/fanfiction_fanfriction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A photograph is something that can stay with someone forever, make them think and act upon what is presented. It can bring fear and it can bring hope and for Tucker and Washington it does exactly that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Frames in Your Hands

A photograph, a still frame of a moment in time, whether it be good or bad, it is always there. Even if it isn’t physically in one’s hands, you can image the photo. Who’s in it, the time it was taken, the mood and the emotion that was running through during the moment the camera shuttered and printed a photo.   
That’s the thing about photographs, they’re always there and they always stay with someone, like a permanent tattoo in the mind but, for Washington and Tucker, they still have the photographs even though they are scuffed up and torn at the edges.  
Almost everyone remembers the day photos were taken but for Tucker it meant a whole other thing, they were in Valhalla ready to go after the Director, it was early, the sun still new in the sky, it not warming the ground quite yet. Everyone was getting ready, fixing the jeep, packing ammunition and other necessities (some more necessary than others). Doc came out of the red base carrying a bulky camera, him fumbling it around in his armored covered hands until he almost blinds himself when he sets it off, making the flash shine bright through the visor of his helmet. This causes him to almost drop it onto the metal of the base and break it.  
Simmons takes it from Doc and looked at it as well before yelling “Hey dipshits, look what I found!”  
This makes Doc give the maroon armoured soldier a dirty look as he holds the camera over his head to get the point across.  
“What the fuck is that?” Grif asks, looking to Simmons.  
“What the fuck do you think?” Simmons shouts.  
“Answer my question, asshole.” Grif growls.  
Simmons barks back “Why do you guess, lazy ass!”  
They bicker causing Doc to look over at Donut who has come out of the base, looking confused at the two men yelling at each other from a good ten meters apart about something that could be easily resolved if either Grif goes over to Simmons or the other option is Simmons answers Grif’s question.  
Their bickering bounces off the snow tipped canyon, it reaching all the way to blue base.  
Caboose is the first one to notice, finishing packing his things. Making sure every last thing is in there because he doesn’t know how long it’ll take the get there. He notices the yelling and goes outside on the roof of the base and looks around.  
It takes him far too long to realize that it’s coming from the red base and quickly goes inside the get help from the others.  
Tucker didn’t mind sharing a cramped space with Washington, the ex-freelancer could live in the space the size of a cardboard box.  
They had to share because the bases are made for three soldiers and currently there are technically three but, Carolina rejected the idea of sharing a space with Tucker almost immediately after the offer left Wash’s mouth and Tucker wasn’t sharing a room with Caboose. So they got stuck together, at first they laid ridged, afraid to touch each other in any single way, then the nightmares came. It wasn’t only the nightmares of Epsilon but, Tucker had his own string of nightmares which included a replay of the ship carrying Junior on board, playing over and over again, With every time it happens, there’s nothing Tucker can do to stop it. They got closer, stayed up with the other until he fell asleep, with the look of pain and fear erased from his features.  
Then the kiss came soon after, during the dead of night Wash woke up with screaming passing his lips and his body covered in a cold sweat. Nobody else stirred in the base except for Tucker, as soon as he heard the yelling he was up; sleep gone from his eyes and fully alert to deal with the crisis at hand. When he calms Wash down, his breathing once rapid is now calm. The ex- Freelancer looks to Tucker and closes his eyes and leans to the dark skinned man. Tucker swallows hard before leaning towards the blonde man, then their lips touch. The kiss wasn’t short lived, it was long and passionate and at the end of it Tucker chuckles breathlessly ‘Bow chicka wow wow” then Wash punches him in the arm which makes him whine in pain.  
As Caboose looks for them, the two soldiers themselves are laying in bed, Tucker’s leg is hanging out of it, his knee almost touching the concrete floor. He can feel the light shining through the base, making him wake up with a groan. When he opens his eyes he sees a freckled face looking at him.  
“Good morning, Lavernius.” Wash says, running his fingers through the darker man’s hair.  
“Morning, David.” Tucker replies groggily.   
He rolls onto Wash’s chest to hide his face from the sun and Wash replies “I thought I told you not to call me that.”  
“Well then don’t call me by my name.” Tucker points out before yawning loudly.  
Wash rubs Tucker’s back, relaxing against the stiff bed.  
“Look.” Wash starts “We live in kind of a fucked up place with a bunch of lies and deceit but, when I say these words, I’m not using them to get ahead. For fuck sake look how far we’ve come and I just want to tell-” Wash continues but Tucker cuts him off by asking “Wash, spit it out. You sound like a high schooler. A high schooler I’d band though, bow chicka wow wow.”  
Wash punches him in the arm and says “I love you, fuck man. I said it, I. Love. You. For god sake we’re sharing a bed and you sucked my cock once.”  
“Twice actually.” Tucker points out.  
“You fell asleep halfway through.” Wash comments, looking to the darker man.  
Tucker shrugs and replies “Can’t win them all.”  
“How does that- nevermind. I love you okay? You prick.” Wash says, using his  
“Yeah, well I love you too. I just don’t wanting you to die on me.” Tucker replies.  
Wash points out “I’m at the point where I’m a fucking cockroach, I’m more worried about you dying than me dying.”  
Tucker looks up and says “Thanks.” Before kissing Wash on the lips, wrapping his arms around the ex-Freelancer.  
The moment is short lived because they hear loud knocking on the door followed by Caboose saying “Agent Wahsingtub? Tucker?”  
“What’s wrong?” Tucker asks.  
“I need help.” Caboose soon responds.  
Tucker rolls off of Wash with a loud sigh before asking ‘What’s wrong?”  
“There’s yelling outside and I tried to talk to Carolina but, she got mad.. Like really mad, like she threw part of her armor at me.”  
Tucker can hear Wash mutter “Fucking Carolina.”  
‘What do you want us to do about it?” Tucker asks, looking to the door.  
Caboose is quiet before replying “I’m not too sure.”  
Tucker looks to Wash and he’s almost out of the bed. Tucker soon follows suit and gets ready, taking his armor out and putting it on.  
By the time they’re out of the room, Caboose is sitting on the floor looking around the inside of the hall.  
“Are you alright, Caboose?” Wash asks, looking to the soldier.  
“Yeah, I was just waiting for you guys.” Caboose responds.  
Wash helps the blue soldier up and they leave the base, stopping at the halfway point to no longer hear yelling.  
“Are you sure you weren’t hearing things Caboose?” Tucker asks, slightly annoyed that Caboose got them up for nothing.  
“There was something.” Caboose assures, looking to the aqua soldier.  
“Alright, let’s go to the base and see what’s up. Maybe all of them are dead.” Wash compromises.  
Tucker reluctantly agrees, preferring to stay in bed with Wash.  
They go over to the red base and Grif groans at the sight of them “Ready to take more of our shit.”  
“Not exactly, Caboose heard yelling. What the fuck is up with that?” Tucker asks.  
“Oh, Doc just found a camera and Simmons was being a dick about it.” Grif replies, looking to the aqua soldier.  
Caboose asks “Can we see it?”  
“No.” Grif replies flatly.  
“Please.” Caboose begs.  
“No, fuck off dude. It’s our shit, you already took enough of our shit already.” Grif replies in the same tone.  
Wash looks to Tucker and cracks his knuckles before the with force get the camera not because Caboose wanted to look at it, it just made their task easier to accomplish.  
With the camera in Wash’s grips as they walk back to blue base, Wash goes over with Caboose how to use the camera and to take extra care of it because it’s delicate and both him and Tucker have to keep it safe.  
Wash and Tucker find themselves on the roof of the base, watching the sun reach high in the sky.  
“Nice day.” Wash comments, looking out to the water, past the red base.  
“When isn’t it nice?” Tucker asks, looking to the other man.  
As the day passes the two of them forget about the camera until the next morning when Wash finds Tucker by the base with his gun out and in full armor, just standing there as if something is coming after him.   
Wash wish he could show Tucker, how this is what he is supposed to look like, until he remembers the camera.  
Wash starts to move on quick feet, going around the base, checking every nook and cranny until he gets to the mess hall and finds it next to canned corn and for the life of him Wash cannot understand why Caboose or anyone would put a camera next to canned corn or any food.  
When he steahly goes back outside to the front of the base he finds Tucker in the same position only on the other side of the base.  
When Wash takes the picture it makes a loud whining noise and flashes which catches Tucker’s attention easily.  
“Hey!” Tucker shouts, putting his gun away and getting his sword.  
Wash takes another picture and laughs.  
“Give those to me.” Tucker demands.  
Wash replies simply “Why should I?”  
“Because they look bad.” Tucker replies.  
Wash looks at them and replies “I think they look great actually, everything looks nice, except for this aqua colored soldier in the way of my nature photography.”  
Tucker’s brows furrow under his visor and he starts to go after Wash, wanting those photos so he can tear them into shreds so none including Wash will ever see them.  
“I’ll get you back for this, you prick!” He calls out as he chases after Wash, who still has the camera and photos in his possession.  
Tucker later gets a picture of Wash, it’s a lot nicer than a picture taken out of revenge would be, when they find the Directors whereabouts, it was probably the most inconvenient times to snap a picture but he managed to get rid to the camera, which meant he threw it behind him which caused it to break (So much for him having to keep it safe) and keep the photo before the fight began.  
Wash sits there, covered in blood and bruises. His arms held together by the wrists, something he can never break out of. Maybe he can break out of them but with the beatings and torture, there’s no way he could muster up the strength to break the bonds that hold him captive. He’s waiting, waiting as quietly as possible or else it won’t happen. With the day breaking across the sky he knows he is coming. Locus has his picture, uses it as bait to make Wash co-operate, to make the ex-freelancer agree to be what his captor calls “the model prisoner”. The threats of harm not only towards Wash but, his aqua armored partner are at stake too, Wash is in fear of his captor finding Tucker and putting him in the situation that Wash lives day in and day out now.   
The picture is his only hope, he’s surprised that Locus hasn’t ruined it but, rather keeps in covered in plastic, as the preserve it, as if Wash is going to be here for so long that the picture will start to wear more than it has already. Wash hopes that it doesn’t get to that point and that them come from him soon and get him out of here. Out of his blood and sweat that stain his clothes, out of the insanity that is slowly creeping in on him, not only from the torture but, the memories of Epsilon that are sinking back into his subconscious, making him believe for a moment that Tucker is dead.  
All Wash can do is wait; wait for Locus to come by with the picture and wait for Tucker and the others to find him, and then he won’t need that picture anymore.  
Now Tucker sits at the rebel base, sitting on crates and out of his armor. The run rising the way it did when the photograph was taken, he’s been training all night. Sleep isn’t a common thing anymore, his body just won’t let him. It’s not the nightmares of Junior that only get to him anymore, it’s images of a dead Wash, or a Wash that is more broken than he was before; a Wash that can never put back together.  
Tucker cards his fingers through his dark hair and sighs as he bites back the painful possibility that Wash might be dead, but that isn't stopping him from trying.  
With the photograph in his hands like a safety blanket or a worn stuffed toy, a sign hope that he’ll manage to get Wash out and back to him, back to the way it was in Valhalla. The way the memories were and how simple it was. As he takes his other hand and rests his head on it, his fingers gripping the bottoms of his hair near his forehead.  
The only thing he wishes for is for Washington not be dead.


End file.
